What You See Isn't Always What You See
by cam408962
Summary: Percy is your normal preteen boy, only he has ADHD and dyslexia. He also has an overactive imagination, or so he thought. Is he really seeing those things? Or is he just a boy living in an insane dream?


**So, I thought I'd give this another try, I've been on a very long hiatus, let's see if I can come back.**

**I own nothing in this story.  
**

Percy Jackson is your normal preteen boy, the one difference, is that he has dyslexia and ADHD, but who in the world doesn't have one of the two now-a-day? Percy was currently enrolled at his thirteenth school when it happened. He was in 7th grade. He had a very active imagination, or so he thought.

**Wednesday, April 11, 2009**

_Percy POV_

"Mom, come on, why do I have to go to another school?" I really didn't want to go, I have bad luck at schools, every school I've been to has said "We don't think we're the right fit for you," which is their way of kicking me out. I'm tired of it. I just wish something would happen where I didn't have to go anymore...School just doesn't make sense, words float right off the pages. I'm dyslexic and ADHD, school is really difficult for me.

"Percy, please, just give it a try, soon, everything will work out," my mom, Sally Jackson told me. Her technical last name is Ugliano, but I hate the guy, so I refuse to accept the marriage. Gabe is a pig, I don't know why she stays with him...all he does is sit and eat...and drink, a lot.

"When mom? When is this going to start making sense? Every school I've tried has kicked me out, this one will do the same thing."

"You just have to find the one that's right for you, and I have a good feeling about this one."

Knowing I would lose this battle, I grabbed an apple and got in the car, I only knew one person, Grover, he lived in the apartment above ours, I met him out by the pool, I was swimming, and when I came up, he was gaping at me, saying something about how I was under for seven minutes. I just like water.

Driving to school, I watched out the window, looking for anything odd, I have an active imagination, or at least that's what people tell me. I know it's real, like that cyclops that was following me in third grade. I didn't imagine that.

When I arrived at the school, after seeing nothing odd on the way, I said bye to my mom, and walked over to Grover at the entrance. Grover limped over to meet me. You see, Grover has a muscular disorder that he said gets him out of P.E. forever. He's lucky. Looking down, it appeared that he had a tuft of hair coming out from around his ankle, he saw me looking and moved his leg enough to make his jeans move to cover it.

"You ready for your first day?" He said breaking me out of my trance.

"No, but do I really have a choice?"

"Well, yea, you don't have to go in, you're going too, but you still have the choice not to."

I got a bad feeling the second I walked into the building, but I felt safe too. Like when you're in a jail, all the criminals around you, but you know the police will protect you if anything happens.

I followed Grover to the first class, Greek I, it was either Greek or Latin, and my mom chose Greek for me, without even asking. I have enough troubles with English, I do not want to even attempt another language.

"Class, welcome to Greek I, I am Mr. Brunner." I looked around for the voice, expecting a big, buff man to go along with the tough voice, but no, it was a balding man in a wheelchair. "Today, we will start class with a quiz. You will only write in pen in this class." It seemed he was looking at me for a lot of his introductory speech.

"Um, excuse me," I said raising my hand.

"Yes, Mr. Jackson?"

"I don't have a pen." I wondered how he already knew my name, I assumed he knew I was coming, school had already been in session a few weeks.

"Come up here please."

I walked to his desk expecting a lecture about being prepared, but instead, he handed me a fancy, expensive looking pen.

"Percy, keep this pen with you wherever you go, use it in times of peril. But remember, don't uncap it unless you're in trouble, click it when you need to write." He spoke in a quiet voice, it sounded like he was warning me of something, a danger coming soon.

"Um, thanks?" I walked back to my desk and got out a piece of paper for the test.

On the ELMO, he placed a sheet of paper that said 'Translate to English,' or in my case, 'rasnlateT ot glnihsE.' I knew I wouldn't do good on the test.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at question one.

It was already in English though, thinking it was odd, I just wrote down what it said. The same happened with question two, and three, and all the way to twenty.

Mr. Brunner rolled his wheelchair to each person when they raised their hand saying they were down and graded their paper at their desks. I was finished third, only because I don't like finishing first.

He rolled to my desk and looked over it. I looked away not wanted to see another failing grade. But when I looked, he was gazing at me with a sad look in his eyes.

"I expected nothing less from _you_ Mr. Jackson."

I looked at the test and saw a 100.


End file.
